Nothing Like The Sun
by MegElemental
Summary: A millenium is a long time to be by yourself, but Merlin must wait, until that time when the Once and Future King can rise again...
1. Beginning of the end

**Nothing like the sun**

The sun is setting, making the sky glow pink and gold; people hurry home, anxious for the day to be over so they can sink into their soft, warm beds and sleep, ready for yet another endless day of work and drudgery.

The crisp autumn winds whistle down the street, biting and snapping at exposed skin. A woman pulls her coat closer about her, and a man catches his scarf before it blows away. Leaves rush past, often landing on people and brushed off with impatient hands.

He walks slowly, will very little purpose. Head down against the wind, hands shoved deep into coat pockets, he plods along. His much more sedated pace to those around him sets him off as different, in another world. Others take no notice of him; and he very little of them. He carries nothing, and yet has the whole world on his shoulders. He stoops like an old man, but is barely 30, if not 20. He looks up and the last dying rays light up his face; the well-defined cheekbones, unlined face and mouth that used to be set in a permanent smile. But those days are long gone, and after such a time, he is doubtful they will ever return.

He reaches the top of the hill, and sits on a bench nearby, almost buried under dead leaves. Small children are running past him, some dressed up as vampires, witches, and wizards. One exceedingly small girl drops her pumpkin lantern and it cracks on impact with the soggy, leaf-strewn floor, before rolling along and coming to rest at his feet. He bends over, picking it up with long, white fingers. He turns it over in his hands, and soon locates the break. A few words are whispered under his breath, quickly caught by the wind and whipped away, and maybe the sun catches his eye and lights up their clear blue for a split second, or maybe the little girl imagined it, but she thought she saw his eyes flash gold. She walks up to him cautiously- her mother told her to be careful near strangers.

He smiles, a kind, soft smile, and she grins back, flashing her gap where her two front teeth should be, but they came out last week on her apple. She loves apples, but now they are not worth the bother to eat, as it is exceptionally hard to take a bit without her two front teeth. But she received two shiny pounds in their place from the tooth fairy, and she thinks this is a good exchange for no apples for a few months. And the teeth are already starting to poke through her gum, as she pointed out proudly to her parents that morning, and her teacher, her friends (who were all very impressed), her Nan and her two big brothers.

The man hands her her lantern, and she takes it eagerly, barely remembering to shout a quick 'Thank you' before she speeds off after the others, her eyes alight with excitement at the prospect of sweets.

He watches her go, smiling still. He remembers why he must do what he has been doing for the past millennium, and it has momentarily strengthened him. As the sun sinks lower, he gets up and starts off towards the woods, where it is already dusk and the trees are alive with the sound of animals and birds in that moment of movement before everything stills and the night begins. As he treks through the forest, at first following the path and then, later on, leaving it, the sun falls further, stretching the shadows to breaking point before, finally, sinking below the horizon and plunging him into darkness.

He has come prepared, however; the bright light of a torch shines through the trunks as he continues his journey, his yearly pilgrimage on all hallows eve, the time when spirits are most connected with earth. He, however, is only interested in three particular ones.

Only when he is deep in the woods does he stop. He moves the torch around until he comes across a sturdy hazel tree. He smiles at the tree, and rubs his hand along a well-worn trunk, as he has done for year after year after year. Than he mutters something under his breath, and his eyes, once again, flash gold, only this time there is no sun to take the blame. The earth rumbles, and a small passage at the foot of the tree appears.

He walks slowly down it, ducking under the huge bronze bell that hangs just by the entrance. He knows, despite the great temptation, that he should not ring it yet. Not yet. But soon. He carries on, gripping the torch tighter in his hand, a small smile growing on his face. And then he reaches the chamber.

He holds out a hand, and old fashioned torches flare up, illuminating the cavern and rendering the torch useless. As the light flickers and dances across the dark walls, he looks around. A huge, round table sits in the middle, surrounded by piles of coins and jewels. Slumped on the table are a group of knights, asleep, and a man wearing a golden crown. The only two women are either side of him; one with a circlet on her head, sleeping close to the king, and one with long, midnight tresses, with her head on her pale arms.

Merlin smiles at his friends. He walks over to them, and sits in the empty chair between Morgana and Arthur.

'Hello, old friends,' he says, happily, though he knows they cannot hear r answer. It makes him feel better, being able to talk to them every year, when the passage opens. He tells them about the modern day, about how different life is now.

'You should see the cars, Arthur, you'd never be able to believe the speeds they can reach. And Gwen, they have special machines now, which wash your clothes for you. I know how much you'd like that.'

When he grows tired of speaking, he gets up and arranges them. He tries to make Morgana more comfortable, but somehow makes it worse, and so he leave her be and moves on. He straightens Arthur's crown, strokes Gwen's hair and smoothes out the creases from their clothes. Then he sighs into the quiet and reflects.

Mordred killed Arthur when he was 37 years old. His rule had barely just begun. The dragon had told Merlin what needed to be done, and he sealed them all in the underground chamber, ready for the future when they would be needed again. And he was left on the outside, alone.

He lived out the rest of his natural life in his home town, Ealdor, occasionally visited by Lancelot. He had disapproved over Gwen's infatuation with the Knight, and had only just been able to save her from Arthur's anger, but he knew Lancelot was, overall, a good man. Merlin had wished he could have sealed him down here as well; he had been pushing it a bit on Gwen and Morgana, but he couldn't bear to leave them behind. He also had a few selfish reasons.

One was that he wanted Gwen and Arthur to be untroubled in the future; second was that he didn't want to be entirely alone. So he grew old and died quietly in the night, only to wake up the next morning as himself at 20. Ten years later, when he still looked 20 and was stoned from the village he had moved to after Ealdor, he realized he wasn't aging.

This wasn't a very good thing; it made it almost impossible for him to stay in one place for any length of time. People believed he had sold his soul to the devil to remain young. Merlin had to admit they weren't far off the mark. More like a dragon that a devil, though.

So he used his magic to age himself. He grew old, died and became 20 yet again, never younger, as it had been then that he had met Arthur for the first time. So he continued through this cycle, watching the world grow and develop, as it left magic behind in the favor of science. And he was proud of them. They had come so far.

Every year, when the passage opened during all hallows eve, he made his pilgrimage down, to see how they were. They always remained unchanged. Sometimes he took some money, to keep himself going.

Then, seven years ago, he had woken up as 20 for what felt like the thousandth time, and started to age naturally. And so he knew the time was coming of the Once and Future King, and he was excited his long wait was finally nearing its end. A thousand years is a long time to be lonely.

This year, however, as he gazes at the bell, which would wake Arthur and the others, the temptation grew. Would ten years really matter, in the grand scheme of things? Just as it became almost too great, he hears movement at the end of the tunnel. He freezes; who has discovered the passage, and Arthur's resting place? He waits, as a torch light shines into the cavern, and the person grows closer to the discovery of his or her lifetime. But as the shadow steps into the flickering light of the cavern, Merlin relaxes in relief.

The heavily pregnant woman walks over to him, and he gets up and offers her his seat. She smiles at him.

'I thought you might want some company tonight,' she says, her light welsh accent echoing in the cavern.

'It is getting harder,' he admits, and she attempts to hug him, her bump hindering her slightly. Merlin smiles and rests his hands on her swollen belly, feeling pride flood his body.

'You should be resting,' he says, mock-crossly.

'I was worried about you,' she says. 'It's so close now; I didn't want you moping down here for another year.'

Merlin remembers how it had been before he'd met Nesta, before she'd been there to help ease the sense of loneliness.

'I love you,' he says, leaning his head against hers, in an awkward half-hug. He'd met Nesta six years ago, at a mutual acquaintance's party. She'd been beautiful, smart, and Merlin was starved of human company. He'd fallen in love for the second time in his life, and he was lucky enough that she felt the same. When Merlin had explained his life and everything that had happened, Nesta had remained silent. He'd even shown her some magic, but still she had stayed utterly still. Then she broke into a relieved smile.

'I knew you were hiding something from me. I thought you were going to say you were gay!' They'd married three years ago, and Merlin had used the treasure from the cavern to buy them a house, a proper house, rather than the flat they shared, which certainly scored him points with his in-laws. For the first time in a thousand years, he had a family again. He loved it. And now, in a few weeks time, his daughter would be born. His heart swelled with pride once more, and he put both hands on Nesta's bump, feeling the movement of the baby inside. She would have his gift of magic. He could sense it.

'Are you done?' she asks after a moment of silence, gently and carefully. He nods, and she leads him gently from the passage, up past the hazel tree. He takes one last glance back at his slumbering friends, and knows that soon, they will be together again. This makes him smile.

It takes a while to get back to their small house, as Nesta is quite near her time and cannot move particularly fast. Merlin has much longer strides, and is anxious to get home, but never lets go of her hand. When they are standing on their porch, while Nesta fumbles for her keys, Merlin watches her slender hands pick out the right one, her dark eyebrows furrowed in concentration, her dark brown eyes shining in the small light that triggered as they walked up the drive. She gets the door open with a triumphant sound and Merlin half-carries her to the sofa, before getting a movie out of the cupboard to watch before they retire for the night. As he searches through the cabinet for a suitable film, he glances at his wife on the sofa, feet propped up on the other side as she peruses the magazine she'd abandoned to go and fetch him, and he hopes Morgana will understand. He did love her, but a thousand years is a long time, and she was not the one to save him from himself.


	2. Warm with trust

**AN: I couldn't leave Nothing Like the Sun on its own, so I decided to make it into a three-parter. Thanks to Smithsonian Girl, for being such a great reviewer, and the reason I wrote this and am writing Already been Said, which is the third in this trilogy.**

**This is really just a filler, before the last (maybe) one.**

Nesta looks out the window of her living room at the sad sight of their pumpkin lanterns on the drive, put out by the driving rain. There will be no trick-or-treaters tonight, and she is sad to think of all the excited children sitting at home, staring miserably out at the rain. She herself has one in the room, and the small girl is being consoled by her father, who is reading her a favourite story.

As she stands and stares at the rain, she contemplates her husband and her daughter, two dark heads bent over the book, both with bright blue eyes that had an alarming tendency to shine gold. Jenna had Merlin's magic; Nesta had half dreaded, half excitedly anticipated that fact, and even though Merlin was there to control it, sometimes she found it hard to control the small 4-year-old girl. Merlin had gone through the same thing as he'd grown up, but that was, as he reminded her the other day, a very long time ago.

It's a strange thing, knowing your husband is at least 1000 years old. One of those nagging thoughts you never quite get your head around. Sometimes, when she looks into his blue eyes, she can see the strain all the years alone have cost him, but she likes to think that after every day the scars fade a little more.

That's what drew her to him in the first place. Nesta first caught sight of his tall, lanky frame at her friend's party when she was twenty. He had an air of innocence and youth about his face, but his eyes… they contained wisdom and immeasurable age. She'd walked over and started the conversation with those fateful words.

'Hi, I'm Nesta. Are you new round here?"

He had then proceeded to tell her that he'd moved down from Scotland just a few months ago, and that Ruby (the hostess) had known his father when she had been a little girl. Of course, now she knew that Ruby hadn't known his father at all; she know him, but older. In fact, Merlin had told her since he'd never known his father. Back then, however, she lapped up his story and immediately sympathized; she'd moved to south-east England only recently herself, from Wales.

They'd chatted that night, and as they had both got rather tipsy, the friendship had proceeded a lot faster than it would have normally. She'd woken up the next morning with his number in her phone and a date planned for the next week, which was a huge step for her. Nesta had always been incredibly shy.

But there was something about Merlin that made her feel chatty, and open. Now, she supposed it was because he was much older in spirit than her peer group, slightly more serious and grown-up. Her friends were all trying not to mature, holding on to their last scraps of youth like drowning men holding onto a raft. Merlin had already let go years before she met him. It also may have been because he was a young, single man, who was actually interested in her, giving her that much needed spurt of confidence. He'd been starved of human interaction, and they grew close, quickly, after the first date.

They'd met in a small coffee bar in Windsor, and though things had been slightly awkward at first, once Nesta had started on her chocolate muffin and he'd had an invigorating gulp of tea, they had talked about their lives. Nesta had told him all about her life as an only girl after three boys, and the rain in Wales. Merlin had fed her an entirely fictitious past, and now she looks back, she can't believe how she ever swallowed some of the things he told her.

Nesta retreats from the large window, from which she had been watching the rain run off their red car in sheets. The living room is warm and cosy, with a flickering coal fire and soft orange light from the lamps. The TV sits silent in a corner, much to her relief. Some of the programmes are so _noisy. _

The only sound in the room is the low tones of her husband as he reads a story to their 4-year old daughter. Nesta smiles and walks over slowly, carefully sitting down next to Jenna and snuggling close, aware of her large size. Merlin glances over anxiously, but she smiles back. She doubts it will happen tonight.

'And they all lived happily to the end of their days,' Merlin concludes, and Jenna's head, which has lolled onto his shoulder from tiredness, jerks back up as she realizes that the end of the book means bed.

'Bedtime Jennie,' Nesta says quickly, aware of the brewing storm.

'But- but I'm not tired,' she wails, her words slurring together.

'Bed,' Merlin says firmly, and scoops her up, wriggling and squirming, and offers her to Nesta for a kiss on the forehead, before carting her off upstairs to her bed. Nesta sits for a little while longer, listening to the epic battle going on above her, before slowly returning to her feet and, picking up the empty tea mugs, heads to the kitchen. Near the sink, however, she gasps in sudden pain, the two mugs smashing to the floor. Clutching her stomach with both hands, she realizes the small contractions she'd had all day weren't a false alarm.

Water drips down her legs and she groans, but then Merlin is in the room, holding her, cupping her face worriedly with his hands.

'Why didn't you tell me?' he asks, looking hurt and anxious all at once. She shrugged.

'Jennie deserved a day to herself. And I thought they were just a false alarm!'

Merlin is suddenly all business.

'I need to phone your parents,' he mutters as he helps her to a chair, 'so they know, and they we can drive Jennie there on the way to the hospital.' He sits her down gently and rushes off to get the phone. Nesta watches him go, wondering how she ever found such a wonderful man. But then another contraction grasps at her belly and her thoughts towards Merlin are no longer quite so favourable.

'Yes, I know… It's earlier… Jennie's just gone to bed… yes, very…. Ok, see you in a bit.' Nesta hears only one side of the conversation, but winces slightly as Merlin slams down the phone hurriedly and rushes upstairs to collect a sleepy Jennie.

The trip to the car is awkward; they all have to fit under one umbrella, and all are soaked by the time they are safely strapped in and on the road. Merlin drives fast but careful, and they soon reach her parents house. Nesta stays in the car as Merlin hurries Jennie in, who has fallen asleep thanks to the lulling motion of the car and is not happy at being woken up again. Nesta experiences the slight pang of worry at leaving her at her parent's house, as they were (thankfully) unaware of their grandchild's strange ability, but somehow they had never noticed Jenna levitating the things she wanted toward her.

Merlin was back in a flash; she caught sight of her mum waving from the door before they sped off, and after the pain of another contraction, Nesta realizes the significance of tonight.

'Merlin, I'm sorry,' she moans. He glances at her distractedly; driving in the dark was something he never enjoyed.

'What?' he asked, before paying attention to the road once more. But Nesta then gets distracted by yet another painful squeeze and forgets whet she was going to say.

The baby comes much faster than Jenna had. Nesta is rushed into the labour ward, but barely spends ten minutes in there before going to the delivery room. She is thankful; she has a very low pain threshold and felt embarrassed crying out in a room full of other women experiencing the same thing, except they took the pain stoically.

Merlin holds her hand through the whole thing, like he had before, and when she is sitting up in the hospital bed, holding a mewling bundle, the past few hours feel like a blur. Nesta hands her youngest daughter to the proud father, a grin on his face splitting from ear to ear, and the baby hiccups and stops crying. Nesta relishes the peace and leans back, eyes closed. Merlin leans down and kisses her sweaty forehead.

'Well done again,' he smiles, looking down at his daughter.

'Next time, you can,' she mutters, eyes still closed and Merlin chuckles.

'I'll try.'

The baby calls out for attention, obviously knowing her parents are no longer fawning over her.

'So, are we still decided on the name?' Nesta says, opening her eyes and glancing at Merlin.

'Alle? I think so. It suits her.' Merlin gazed adoringly down at the newly named Alle, who fidgeted slightly. Nesta remembers what she was going to say before, and gasps.

'Oh, Merlin! I'm so sorry!' He looks at her, surprised.

'What? Why?'

'It's Halloween!' she says. Dawning comprehension appears on her husband's face.

'Oh. Well, to be honest, I don't _need _to go,' he says, jiggling Alle to a more comfortable position. 'It's more of a… comfort. But now I have you, and Jenna, and Alle,' he beams down at the baby in his arms, who looks about surprisingly alertly for a newborn. Her eyes flash gold and the bed moves a few inches. Merlin laughs delightedly.

'Already! She's going to be powerful.' Nesta groans, but smiles.

'Just like her father.'

A nurse knocks gently and walks in.

'It's getting late, and the doctor wants you to stay in just for tonight, Mrs Emery.' Nesta nods as Merlin hands the nurse Alle, who places the now sleepy baby in a small cot at the end of the bed.

'Now,' said the nurse, 'I advise you to get some rest.' Nesta quails under her stern gaze and obediently settles down, while Merlin makes himself comfortable in the chair next to the bed. The nurse smiles and leaves quietly, turning the lights down. Merlin takes Nesta's hand. His is warm and soft.

'Rest, Nesta,' he says. 'Tomorrow we'll have to deal with your parents and Jenna's questions about where Alle came from.'

'Hopefully mum and dad will sort that out tonight,' Nesta mumbles drowsily. She drops off quickly, lulled by the quite breathing of the small baby at the end of her bed. But Merlin stays up, clutching her warm, soft hand, and gazing out the window at the stars.

'Sorry Arthur,' he murmurs inaudibly. 'Gwen, Morgana. I'll tell you all about it next year. And besides, in five years, you'll be able to see them yourselves. You'll love them. I know you will. Maybe you'll have some of your own. I know you wanted to, Gwen. Now you'll have your chance.' Somehow, despite the hospital smell and the quiet in the room, he felt as though they could hear him. As though they were with him, wherever he was. That was comforting, although he wished he'd realized earlier. Five years left. Merlin falls asleep with a smile of anticipation on his face.


	3. Already Been Said

She feels herself slowly come into consciousness, and then she regains use of her eyelids once more. Levering them apart, she peers blurrily around, straightening up and rubbing the painful crick in her neck. The cavern around her gradually comes into focus as she sits up in her hard-backed chair and stretches, yawning, glancing around her.

The others are waking up to, some looking refreshed, and some looking ready to fall asleep again. Arthur is occupied with what looks like the world's largest yawn, and Gwen looks disorientated and not yet fully awake. Morgana looks past the rows of knights getting sluggishly to their feet, and sees him.

Merlin is standing by the wall, looking down at someone or something a knight is obscuring from Morgana's vision. He is talking; she can see his mouth move, but cannot make out the words. She gasps slightly as he looks up, as he looks exactly the same to when she saw him last, across a bloody battlefield, before she took Arthur to his final resting place, which happens to be the very place in which she is in. The orange flames flicker and dance, but four beams of pure, concentrated light dance across the walls and ceiling. Morgana suspects magic, and looks around at Merlin, knowing only he is a fellow magician in the midst of Knights and Queens, but his eyes show no hint of gold.

Merlin smiles at her, a happy, carefree smile, and walks over slowly, his arm held out strangely. When he draws closer, she sees why; he is holding the hand of a small girl, around four years old, wearing a pointy hat, a ripped and torn black dress, and she seemed to have purple and black stripy legs. In her left hand she clutched a stick with light beaming from the end, and the other grasped Merlin's firmly. Merlin sees her eye line and ushers the little girl forwards.

'Hello Morgana,' he says softly, his blue eyes dancing with happiness. 'This is Alle.' Morgana looks at him, confused, before staring down at the little girl-Alle, who is looking up at her with a mixture of excitement and confusion.

'Hello Morgana,' she says, smiling. Morgana can't help but grin back. 'I like your dress,' she continues, reaching out to stroke the soft silk.

'I like yours too,' she replied, making the little girl laugh.

'I'm a witch,' she declares, twirling, and Merlin laughs. Morgana looks back at him.

'Merlin…' He hugs her, but briefly, and then he reaches for her hand and places Alle's small one in it.

'Look after Alle for me,' he says, smiling, before he wanders off to say hello to Arthur, who had finally made a move to stand up, and Gwen, who looked ecstatic at seeing her old friend.

Still staring at his back, and wondering about his strange clothes, Morgana feels a tug on her dress. She bends down to look at Alle.

'It's my birthday today,' she tells her, proudly.

'Really?' Morgana said, falling in love with the sweet girl. 'How old are you?'

'I'm five,' she says, puffing out her chest. 'My birthday's on Halloween, and daddy says I'm his little witch, 'cause I can do magic.' Morgana's heart nearly failed her. Alle was Merlin's _daughter_? But then, she supposed, why else would he have brought her down here? Looking down into Alle's bright blue eyes, she wondered how she never thought of it before. It felt… strange, knowing Merlin had moved on, had lived, while they had been stuck in suspension. He'd seen so much, met so many, while she had been sitting rotting in this underground hole. She tries very hard not to feel abandoned or jealous, and looks around the cavern once more to distract herself from the burning sensation in her eyes, threatening tears.

It is then she catches sight of the woman standing in a corner, looking awestruck and slightly dazed. Clutched in her arms is a little girl of two. She looks up and catches Morgana's eyes, and starts towards her.

'Hi, I'm Nesta,' she says, holding out one hand, after shifting the bright-eyed girl to her hip. The girl looks at Morgana with large, saucer-like eyes, as dark brown as her mother's. Morgana shakes Nesta's hand, looking at her strange tunic and trousers in amazement. Nesta sees her gaze and laughs.

'It must be a bit strange for you,' she said, her accent one Morgana couldn't quite place. 'Don't worry; Merlin's sorted everything out for you. We bought the house next door to ours and the Knights are going to live there. You three,' she gestured to Morgana, Gwen and Arthur, 'are staying with us. If you can cope with three young girls.' Nesta chuckled, and her eyes crinkled.

Morgana was having trouble placing this woman. She couldn't be… Merlin's wife?

'I'm sure they're lovely,' Morgana said hastily, making Nesta smile more.

'Morgana!' Gwen calls. Her former queen and maidservant hurries over. 'Isn't Merlin so different?' her friend gushes. 'The modern world sounds really amazing. Oh, you must be Merlin's wife.'

'Nesta,' she says, shaking Gwen's hand as well. Morgana feels dazed. Merlin had moved on, it seemed. Left her behind.

Morgana is stunned and doesn't really notice anything else. She is led out of the cavern by a girl, older than the others, who gently takes her through the wood to her house. She has closed her eyes and opened them in a strange new world in which she has no place. And it scares her. Oh lord, how it frightens her.

o0o

Life settles into a routine. Morgana sleeps in the room next in between Alle's and Jenna's, which she likes. The girls keep her company, show her new things. She learns more about the world everyday.

Sword-fighting is now just a hobby, a sport. Wars are fought with guns, strange sticks that shoot metal balls at speeds that can rip a man in two, and large bombs that could destroy the whole world. To listen to music you no longer need a troupe of musicians – it is compacted into a small box. Mirrors tell stories, the pictures move and speak. It is like magic, and yet very different. But she is getting used to it.

Arthur delights in all the new gadgets and gizmos, as Nesta calls them. Her accent, she explained to Morgana, is welsh, and she showed her where Wales was on a map of the world. Morgana has become addicted to a box called a computer; she can find out whatever she wants on it, at the click of a thing called a mouse, but it is not a mouse.

She tries to live a normal life, tries to fit in like the others. Arthur has blended in like he belonged, Gwen adores the modern lifestyle and the equality of life, 'there are no servants, Morgana. Imagine that!' and the knights live secluded lives in the house next door.

Morgana has found solace with the two girls. Jenna, who is ten now, after her birthday on November the 11th, is learning the extent of her powers, while Alle is starting to be able to control hers. She makes herself useful by teaching them all she knows, as Merlin is often at his 'job', which, when he explained to her, she didn't understand. Marita, the youngest, has not yet shown an ability, but Morgana can feel it inside her, and knows she will be the most powerful of them all. Maybe even strong enough to rival her father.

Morgana wanted to hate Nesta, the woman who Merlin chose, in the end, to spend his life with. But she can't. Nesta is sweet, and friendly, and does everything she can to make their lives as comfortable as possible. And Morgana can't help but like her. It didn't help that she looked so much like the girls.

When Alle and Jenna were at school, Nesta and Marita were out shopping, Merlin and Arthur were out doing whatever it was they did, Morgana retreated into the library. Trust Merlin to devote the largest room in the house to books. The shelves were lined with them, from magic to engineering, which Morgana found strangely interesting. There were also a few books about the Legend of King Arthur, in which she reads about herself as the evil witch, seducing Arthur and having Mordred. She shudders and puts the book down.

The library is empty, and feels cold and abandoned. She is alone, and so she sinks into the books, absorbing herself in the story, drawing it around her like a cloak against the outside world.

A slight cough startles her into jumping up. She slams the book down hard on the nearby table and squeaks in surprise, only to see Merlin emerge from a bookshelf.

'Morgana,' he says gently, but she raises her head and is aloof.

'Aren't you supposed to be at work with Arthur?' she asks stiffly. Merlin grins.

'I am, yes, but there was something I had to do here first.'

'You mean you let Arthur go on his own?' Morgana asks, horrified. Merlin raises a placating hand.

'He'll be fine. I made him take the bike, as he can't drive yet…' Morgana had seen the strange metal contraption Merlin called a 'bicycle' and it looked very unsafe. But that wasn't all she was worried about.

'Arthur might go round telling people who he is! He's got so much pride; he would argue with anyone who tried to tell him what to do. And he's new to this time, how could you let him go on his own?' Morgana scolds Merlin, but his grin stayed in place. She gave up and slumped back into her chair. Merlin waits until he is sure she has stopped before he speaks again, slightly sternly.

'Honestly Morgana, you mother Arthur more than Gwen does. He's not a child; he can look after himself.'

'So why are you here?' she asks, grumpily.

'I wanted to talk to you,' he says, softly, drawing up a chair and sitting beside her. 'I noticed you've been… struggling over the past few weeks. I know there is quite a big difference between Camelot and now, and you might have found it hard to adjust. I had it lucky – I had it brought on gradually. I know I…' But Merlin had once again raised Morgana's ire.

'Arthur, Gwen and the others have that problem too!' she snorts angrily, 'and yet I seem to be the only one who you need to have to have a little session with! Am I some sort of delicate flower that can't cope? May I remind you I was the most powerful sorceress in Camelot back then, and I am no wilting pansy that cannot deal with a slight shift in time! Or maybe,' she says, getting into the flow of her wrath, 'you think that because of our history, and the fact that you have moved on, it seems, means that I have suddenly fallen to pieces!' She stops and realizes she is standing up, hands on hips, breathing heavily. Also, after reviewing her outburst, realizes she has revealed far more than she wanted Merlin to know.

Merlin sits with his hands folded, thoughtfully chewing his cheek. Morgana sits down, feeling flushed and hot, and waits for the return lecture.

'I'm so sorry, Morgana,' he says, sorrowfully. 'I didn't realize…' He takes a deep breath. 'I wanted to talk to you because everyone else has each other. Arthur has Gwen and likewise, and, if anything, there relationship has grown stronger without Lancelot in the way, and the group dynamic hasn't changed for the Knights. But you… you were no longer with me. You had no one.' He looks sad, and Morgana knew that kind, loveable Merlin blamed himself. 'You must have felt, like I did, that we were unravelling towards the end. And then, when we stood at opposite sides of the battle at Camlann, and Arthur died…' he chokes up slightly.

'I tried to keep things going. I knew how hard it would be in the years to wait, so I put you to sleep, and Gwen. The dragon told me only King Arthur and his Knights, but I knew he would struggle without Gwen, and I desperately wanted to try it again with you.' He takes her hand and looks at her beseechingly with those bright blue eyes. 'But a millennium is a long time, and I guess we just came apart completely. And then I met Nesta.' His eyes soften, and his face acquires a love struck look Morgana knew he never wore for her. 'She gave me love, friendship and a family, after so many years. I had begun to forget what it was like.' Then he shakes himself out of it and looks once more at Morgana, who feels… strange.

She knew that Merlin and she were apart, and that it was never going to change. The feelings she had for him were now entirely platonic. But what she had thought jealousy for Nesta turned out to be confusion and displacement. Her space in the group had been taken by another and she had drifted.

'But you aren't alone, Morgana,' Merlin says, earnestly. 'We're all here, your friends, and family,' he squeezes her hand, 'and my girls adore you.' He smiles widely, and for Morgana, something jerks into place. She will train his daughters to be powerful, teach them the ways of magic like the druids had for her, add to Merlin's teaching in a way only a witch cold, and look after them. That was her new position.

She smiles hesitantly at Merlin, who looks anxiously back.

'Thanks,' she says softly. 'Everything seems a lot clearer now.' She kisses him on the cheek, and then starts to shove him out the door.

'Go. Arthur has probably killed himself already,' she jokes. Merlin smiles, relieved, and leaves, with a final parting wave. Morgana settles back down to her book, feeling the lightest she had since she woke up. She had a purpose once more. And boy, was she going to fulfil it.

**AN: This is the end of Nothing like the Sun, a story that was never meant to be anything other than a one-shot description practice. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I have been obsessed with it throughout the past week, writing parts on free paper, muttering planned dialogue on my bike… not a good plan, as people passing by tend to think you're a bit bonkers. I think there will be a sequel, as I have had a reasonable idea and feel like my muse won't let me sleep until I write it down, so keep posted. Also, if you enjoyed this, you might want to try Of Cause to Effect, my other Merlin fic. So, thanks for reading.**

**That's all, folks,**

**Meg**

**P.S. reviewing would be lovely.**


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